Past, Present, Future
by FFYP-det-Yagami
Summary: A popular Christmas classic, fused with Death Note, and unsuitably mistreated by FFYP-det-Yagami. Not for the weak-hearted, or those that want seriousness for the festive season... Violence, by the way, might be an issue...
1. Chapter 1: Prelude

_I would like to wish one and all a very merry Christmas. Before I do that, however, I would like to give you this fic to read._

_Yeah, I know. I'm kind of sorry about it too._

_Anyway. Though I hope it's evident from the stuff I've written below, this is loosely based on the events that occur after the Yotsuba arc. Consequently, I give this a Spoiler Warning of "DON'T READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T GOT PAST VOLUME SEVEN OF THE MANGA OR EPISODE 25 OF THE ANIME"._

_However, as this is a Christmas fic – and it's written by me – it definitely won't be staying entirely truthful to the canon story. It's _supposed_ to be comedy, Light's _supposed_ to be that grumpy all the time, and reality will have to be suspended in your minds for the time being. For the most part, this is because this story is… a cross-over fanfic._

_In a manner of speaking._

_I'm scared._

_**Disclaimer:**__ If Death Note were mine, Light Yagami would really have that scythe. Likewise, if Charles Dickens' _A Christmas Carol_ was mine, Tiny Tim would have a scythe. That'd show that mean old Scrooge._

-

**Past, Present, Future**

**Chapter One: Prelude**

It was Christmas Eve at the Task Force headquarters. A few pieces of tinsel that had seen better days were draped limply about the place in a rushed attempt to make the place look a little festive. In the corner, a cheap USB Christmas tree rotated slowly, shedding its dim light across the desk.

Matsuda smiled to himself. He hadn't had much time to work on it, but… he had to admit, he'd done a pretty good job with the few decorations he could lay his hands on. It looked like a regular Santa's grotto, in his opinion. When the other guys came back with their coffee, they would be _so_ impressed.

He sat down in his chair, and admired his handiwork with a real sense of achievement. No, he knew it wasn't much, but it was good for what it was. And it was the thought that counted – right?

Suddenly, he heard a click. They had certainly been quick…

He got to his feet, and watched expectantly as the doorknob turned.

The door swung open.

"Surprise!!" he beamed, spreading out his arms, waiting for the friendly backslapping and happy gasps to begin.

Ide stared blankly at him.

"… What surprise?"

Matsuda's smile faltered. "… The… The decorations! See?" He pointed animatedly over at the tiny rotating tree. Without anything even touching it, it fell over.

"Oh. I… see," said Ide, his expression not changing much at all. "Well… That's great. I'm glad to see you happy about Christmas. I'll just drink my coffee and get on with my work, if it's all the same to you."

… Well, _that_ wasn't the kind of reaction he was looking for.

But, he shrugged, it was only Ide. What else could he expect from a guy who was grumpy _all year round?_ Matsuda bet that, deep down, he was speechless in amazement. After all, he'd done a really, REALLY good job… right?

Light would like it. The Chief would like it. And so would Mogi. Aizawa was a bit grumpy too, so he shouldn't really expect much of a reaction from him either… but on the whole, Matsuda guessed that most of the guys would really appreciate what he'd done. Ide coming in first was just a bit unlucky, is all.

… Right?

He waited expectantly for the next person to arrive. He wouldn't have to wait long.

"Surprise!!"

Aizawa stared blankly at him.

"… Wh…"

"Matsuda decorated," Ide mumbled. "Tinsel, Christmas tree, things like that."

"Oh," said Aizawa. He went and sat down, and took a sip of coffee.

…

Matsuda psyched himself up again. All the miserable guys were already here – that meant that the next person to walk through that door would _definitely_ appreciate his artistic abilities. DEFINITELY. No question about it, not at all.

The next person to walk through that door…

"Surprise!!"

Soichiro furrowed his brow a little. He opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly silenced by a light nudge from Mogi, who nodded in the direction of the tinsel around the picture frames.

"… So you decided to put up some decorations, Matsuda," said Soichiro, smiling as politely as possible. "I'm happy to see that _someone_ hasn't lost their festive spirit, even with Kira still around. Good for you."

Mogi nodded in approval.

"Well, _thank _you, Chief. And _thank_ you, Mogi," Matsuda smiled triumphantly. "I'm happy to see that _someone_ can appreciate things like this."

Unfortunately, fate had not given Matsuda much time to revel in his colleagues' compliments. As soon as the pair sat down, an icy wind began to blow through the open door. In the minds of the Task Force, all the world's bright colours began to pale… and soon, all but the distracted Matsuda were cowering in their chairs, holding their coffee cups close to their chests in a vain attempt to keep warm in the bitterness of the frosty breath that preceded…

In an instant, Light Yagami appeared in the doorway. He stood, tall and foreboding, and staring with pointed disgust at the USB Christmas tree, which was vibrating across the desk spasmodically.

"What," he said, wrinkling his nose, "is that?"

"Oh – Light!" Matsuda finally noticed him, yet seemed completely oblivious of his disapproving expression. "Yeah, it was a surprise! I wanted to decorate the place, make it look a little more jolly. How do you think I did? Pretty good, huh?"

There was a silence. A silence so heavy and pronounced that the air could be cut with a knife. Finally, as Light's gaze bore deeper into him, Matsuda realised that he was, perhaps, not quite as happy about the arrangements as first expected.

"Christmas decorations," Light almost spat. "Tinsel, and a tiny Christmas tree. This is a _murder investigation_, Touta Matsuda – not the Mardi Gras. No, this is _not_ pretty good. This is stupid, and irrelevant, and – if you wouldn't _mind_," he sneered, "I would like you to take them all down. NOW."

"But… bu-but… Erm… But it's Christmas…" said Matsuda.

"Hmm. Yes. But the fact of the matter is that Kira is still at large, and despite the seriousness of the situation, you still find it _amusing_ to go ahead and waste time by putting up _Christmas decorations_."

"Bu…"

"No buts," Light snapped. "Take down these silly decorations, Matsuda, and let us continue with our investigation. Christmas festivities can wait."

Crestfallen, Matsuda turned towards the tinsel dangling off the edge of the table lamp and, begrudgingly, removed it. Despite the crushing blow he had been dealt, he was still unwilling to let go of the holiday spirit so easily. With his last shred of courage, he turned back towards Light and asked – in as brave a tone as he could muster, "I was wondering, though. Seeing as it's Christmas day tomorrow, I was wondering whether… we could all have the day off. None of us really get to see our families much any more, and this is the one time of year where you should spend time with the people that matter to you most. So, umm… yeah, can we all have tomorrow off? One day off the job won't go amiss, would it?"

Out of instinct, the other members of the Task Force shrank further into their chairs. Without a sound, Light Yagami seemed to swell with rage in front of Matsuda. The icy wind bit deeper.

"A _day off_. Just because it's _Christmas_?" Light said, barely above a whisper, and yet loud enough to fill the room and Matsuda's head with horrific, foreboding echoes. "No. No Christmas holidays. As far as this Task Force is concerned, Christmas…

"… is…

"… cancelled."

The world froze.

And shattered.

-

Light Yagami was a cruel man. He cared for no one, worked his subordinates to the limit, and hated all things that were not compatible with his plans. He was a user, and a miser of both his material and spiritual wealth.

And worst of all, he held a dark secret from all those around him. As the leader of the Task Force, and the new, self-appointed heir to the name of L, his job was to catch criminals – most importantly, the mass-murderer Kira. The horrible irony that very few had been made aware of is that Light Yagami himself _was_ Kira, and had killed the former, original L in order to gain more freedom and power. The original L had been suspicious of Light almost from the very beginning, and had been such a skilled detective that he had almost found enough proof to back up his suspicions. Out of fear and selfishness, Light killed him. Once, Light and L had worked together as a team. Now L was dead, and Light worked alone – without exceptions.

-

It was late evening now, and work at the Task Force headquarters had finally drawn to a close for the day. Light Yagami trudged home with a sour look about him, and thoughts of Matsuda's idiocy plaguing his mind. He couldn't care less whether it was Christmas or not – and those that _did_ care were stupid. He promised to himself that, along with door-to-door salesmen, cleansing the world of people who loved Christmas would be his main priority after all the criminals were taken care of.

Depressingly, he imagined that he would be greeted with the same kind of mindless festive cheer when he arrived back home. Misa always was the sort to fall for all that corporate consumerism crap, especially if they dressed it up in pretty lights and sparkles. Once she had outlived her usefulness, he would have to get rid of her, too…

A happy thought.

When he finally arrived home, however, another pleasurable (if unexpected) circumstance arose: Misa was nowhere to be found. A piece of pink notepaper informed him of her whereabouts – unsurprisingly, she had gone last-minute Christmas shopping with one of her friends.

Light shrugged. Well – at least Christmas brought _some_ kind of benefit with it. He wouldn't have to put up with all that whining. Instead, he was free to marvel in his own excellence without distraction this evening. He relaxed extravagantly into an armchair, and reached over to pick up a book to read.

On top of the book, there was a package.

_Strange_, he thought. Perhaps Misa had left him a present – or (more likely, he sulked) she might have just left some rubbish lying around. He picked it up roughly by one of the corners, as though he did not want to catch a disease from it. With the fingertips of his other hand, he straightened out the packet…

… Disappointingly, it appeared to be a half-eaten bag of mints.

"Bah," Light snorted, tossing it to the floor. "Humbugs." The mints spilled across the carpet, and he frowned. A disappointment – just like Misa, and the Task Force, and Christmas, and the whole world that revolved around him…

"Excuse me," said a voice.

A soft, low, monotonous voice. A familiar voice.

Light blinked.

He was sure… he was _sure_ that he was alone.

"Excuse me," the voice said again. "But those were my humbugs. I doubt you'd appreciate it if I threw your things on the floor. Then again," the voice paused, "I don't suppose you're the sort of person to respect other people's property. After all, you certainly don't respect other people's lives…"

That voice… was…

Light's stomach seemed to fill with ice. It couldn't be – he was _alone_. ALONE.

"You're not very talkative today," the voice muttered expressionlessly. "That's unlike you, Yagami-kun."

He tried to swallow, but he couldn't muster the strength to do so. That voice… 'Yagami-kun'… It couldn't… It… but he was alone… and… but…

"Fine," said the voice. "It's really not required that you talk to me anyway. I would have liked some help picking up my humbugs, but I can see that you're not about to do that, so…"

Something moved in the corner of Light's vision. At first, it looked just like a delicate cloth falling to the floor… but as the movement progressed, features could be distinguished. After a few moments, the tip of the 'cloth' unmistakably became the fingers of a cold white hand. An arm sprouted from a hazy shape which – on closer inspection – formed the torso of an unforgettable, impossible young man. He tried to tear his eyes away, but it was futile.

Finally, the young man's face came into view as his translucent body arched ever downwards. Light watched with dread as everything faded into existence before him: the messy black hair, turned grey with the mist that surrounded it; the hollow, unblinking eyes that stared down onto the floor…

"Ryu… Ryuzaki!?"

The ghostly L raised himself back into his usual, hunched position and sighed. "Don't sound so surprised, Yagami-kun. You knew it was me as soon as I said 'excuse me'."

"But… b-but… But I… You're…"

"I'm dead, yes," said L. "But that's no reason for me to give up and go away. Look at Tupac," he added with a sly smile.

Light sat, frozen in his chair, staring in terror at the man he had watched die – the man he had killed. L slouched casually towards him, and placed a cold hand on one of his shoulders.

"So… How about we catch up on old times?"

-

_**Author's Note:**__ If you're wondering where this story is going to go next… then I've obviously failed at writing this as well as I'd wanted to…_

_Yes, A Christmas Carol meets Death Note. This has probably been done, seeing as there's definitely an opening for a crossover with both stories… but I wanted to write this anyway. It seemed like a fun idea, and I really wanted to write a Christmas fic…_

_So here it is. Given the stupidly short amount of time I've left myself to write the next three chapters, expect to see the next updates on this very, VERY soon._

_Merry Christmas!_


	2. Chapter 2: Past

-1_Okay, okay, okay. So this chapter isn't particularly Christmassy. Unfortunately, when I'm faced with the prospect of writing an argument between L and Light… everything else gets metaphorically chucked out of the window._

_Not the plot, of course. The plot's still here, obviously. Even though it might be a little difficult to find…_

_**Disclaimer:** Christmas isn't the time for stealing – it's the time for sharing. That's why I'm not stealing the claim to Death Note and A Christmas Carol… and why their true creators are unwittingly sharing them with me._

-

**Past, Present, Future**

**Chapter Two: Past**

"… Old… times…?"

As Light said these words, L's dark eyes seemed to bore deep into his very being. The former detective shrugged as the fake detective cowered before him.

"Do I really have to repeat _everything_ I say, Yagami-kun? I know you can hear me perfectly well, and I know more than most that you're certainly not stupid enough to misunderstand my intentions. Yes – I have come here to talk about old times. When I was alive, and you were…" L looked him up and down, "… less likely to wear such an abominable suit."

Despite the fear, Light couldn't help but find the irony in _L_ giving _him_ fashion advice…

"I _do_ understand… but… How can you… Why are you _here?_"

The ghost bent down to pick another humbug off the floor. "Why am I here? That's a very simple question for me to answer – I'm a little shocked that you need me to tell you. Surely _everyone_ knows why I came here." He paused, plopped the mint into its bag, and continued. "Today is Christmas Eve. Misa-san has gone out for the night, and who knows when she'll be back… which leaves you all alone, Yagami-kun. Nobody should be alone on Christmas Eve – not even cold-hearted mass-murderers."

Not even a sliver of sarcasm seemed to pass his lips.

Light frowned. "But you're… dead. It's not exactly normal for someone who died several years ago to just pop round to someone's house and keep them company."

"I used to believe that you couldn't kill a person just by writing their name down in a book," said L. "It just goes to show that even the most intelligent of us don't know everything."

He made a good point, of course, but being bested in an argument was not one of Light's fondest pastimes. "Fine," he said, "but just get on with whatever you're supposed to be doing and then, if you would be so kind, leave me in peace; dissolve back into the atmosphere, or haunt someone else, or do whatever lost souls are supposed to do."

"You don't seem quite so scared any more, Yagami-kun," L mused, ignoring his insult completely. "I have to admit, you're quite good at covering up all those little insecurities you have. If you weren't, I'm sure you wouldn't have gotten even half as far as you have…"

Light sneered. "This comes from a man who hid every scrap of information about himself –"

"– and was killed even despite that," said L. He had the slightest hint of a smile on his face as he said it. "Which makes me wonder exactly why so many people aspire to be like I was. You included."

Something in the back of Light Yagami's mind itched. He could take the odd insult in his stride, and he could toss even the most major of setbacks aside with the greatest of ease. He could rationalise bizarre and impossible circumstances quicker than anyone else. He could put up with a lot of hassle – but if there was one thing that he could not abide, it was a direct affront to his ambitions. To have this man – this _dead_ man – claim that _he_, Light Yagami – the almighty Kira, GOD of this new world – _aspired_ to be like him… like _anyone_…

Idolatry wasn't an option. Aspirations were his and his alone. He didn't set his ambitions by those of _other people!!_ It was preposterous. Disgusting.

"I don't need to _aspire_ to be like you were," he said finally, with venom. "I've already surpassed that… The day I beat you, I surpassed you."

The half-smile only grew more pronounced. "I see," L said slowly. "I am truly sorry that you believe that."

"And what's THAT supposed to mean?"

"I take back that statement about you being intelligent," the ghost sighed. "Obviously these past few years without me providing you with a challenge has left your brain a little… soft."

Light pouted and folded his arms.

"It's true. Ever since you murdered me, you've been doing nothing except pretending to be me and Watari – rather badly, I might add – and laughing to yourself about how clever you are. You haven't _done_ anything. It just so happens that the people around you are gullible enough to go along with your original plan…" L inched a little closer to him. "It's quite depressing to admit that I'm not happy about this, but you're not even being Kira any more. Because I'm dead, I rarely have much else to preoccupy my time – so I've watched you… and from what I've seen, you haven't done any work since my death. You don't even write the names into the Death Note yourself."

"Hypocrite," Light spat. "_You_ didn't do all the manual work in your investigations."

"Again, that's true, Yagami-kun. But once again, you're missing a very important factor. It's true that I didn't do anything to _physically_ help bring about the resolutions of any investigation… but I helped by other means. I actually worked towards solving the case, unlike you. If it were up to you – and unfortunately, it is – the Kira case would carry on until the world gave in and accepted you as a social normal… perhaps even a necessity."

"Oh, and you're saying that you wouldn't do exactly the same, if you were in my position?"

L shook his head, his features blurring slightly as he did so. "No, I wouldn't do the same thing. Your plan lacks style – it lacks… what I expected from Kira. Anyone can sit and wait to be accepted. For the ambitious young man that I used to know, however, it would be all too easy. This plan you're using now is more like something I would have expected from the Kyosuke Higuchi Kira, not the real one. Face it, Yagami-kun: you've lost it."

"No," Light growled. "I haven't lost it. I DON'T lose. I NEVER lose. The only reason it looks like that is because I don't NEED to try hard as hard as I did before. Just because things are getting easier for me - just because the world is beginning to accept Kira as their rightful god…"

Something outside rumbled.

"… Just because I've already changed the world for the better, and _just because you lost_… you're feeling insecure. You're taking it out on me."

It was very quiet. Only the soft echoes of the unknown rumblings permeated the silence.

L stared.

After a long, long time…

… he held out the half-filled bag of humbugs.

"Would you like a mint?"

"I'd like _you_ to shut up," said Light. "Here I am, on Christmas Eve, getting insulted by a man I actually witnessed dying. If your original plan was to bring me festive cheer, then you've failed_._ _Miserably_."

"So, I assume you don't want a mint then."

Light batted the bag out of L's ghostly grip. The mints he had collected were scattered about the place once more. "No," he said flatly. "I do not."

L looked at his now empty hand, then up at Light, down to the floor, and back at his hand. "You didn't have to be so horrible about it… Those were _my_ mints, Light-kun."

"I don't care. I really don't care," Light huffed.

"That's your problem. You don't care about ANYTHING any more. Not like before… where even the smallest detail used to mean something to you," the ghost mumbled.

And, suddenly, the world blinked.

The comfortable surroundings of Light's room had gone. Instead, the pair were standing on a street. It was cold, and people milled about them wearing coats and boots that - Light noticed - seemed to be a little out of fashion. The sky above them was a flat, grey plain and… curiously, though it had been late evening only a few minutes ago… it seemed to be midday.

"Wha…"

"A flashback. Unfortunately, these sorts of things come hand in hand with being dead," L shrugged.

"A flashback," Light frowned. "Really. Couldn't you at least have been a little more subtle than that?"

"Yet again, Light-kun… being blatant _also_ comes hand in hand with being dead," he replied. "Now be good and shut up. Otherwise you'll miss it."

"Fine. I might as well try to enjoy this little imaginary episode I'm having," said Light, rolling his shoulders back, and prepared for the inevitably 'important' event to unfold before him.

Following L's line of sight, his eyes fell upon two young men walking along. One was tall and proud, with neat reddish-brown hair and smart (if slightly outdated) clothes; the other was hunched over, and looked an absolute mess, as though he had slept in his clothes or - more accurately - had not slept at all. It was vaguely interesting to see himself from the outside… but other than that, he was not particularly impressed. After all, this was a flashback. Only a fool wouldn't expect to see themselves in a flashback.

The Light Yagami and L from the past appeared to be talking about something, though from this distance it was difficult to determine quite what it was. The past Light gesticulated casually with his hands every once in a while, which made the present-day Light vaguely self-conscious. Did he _really_ make those choppy hand movements _that_ often?

As though he was reading his mind, L muttered, "You're certainly getting very passionate about your side of the argument. I'm surprised no one else noticed that side to you - if they had, convincing them that you were Kira would have been a lot easier."

"So what are we talking about?" Light indicated over to his former self. "What's so important that you needed to take me back to this moment?"

"Would you like to listen in? We won't technically be eavesdropping, seeing as it's ourselves." Without giving him a chance to reply, L grabbed the sleeve of Light's arm with his icy fingers and dragged him closer to them. The nearer they got, the clearer the conversation came.

"… want a shortcake?" said past-Light. "Are you sure that's a good idea? You've been eating sweets all morning."

"Yes, I suppose I have," mused past-L. "And right now, I would like a strawberry shortcake."

"But… you've been eating sweets ALL morning. Surely that tells you something."

"It tells me…" said past-L, "… that I'm obviously not full yet. On account of wanting a strawberry shortcake."

Past-Light scowled, and made another choppy hand movement. "It isn't healthy. Eating sweets all the time… It'll ruin your teeth, for one thing. You'll put on weight, and the sugars you find in cakes only provide a quick boost of energy. It's no wonder you drink so much coffee, you probably wouldn't have any energy at all if you didn't…"

"Is this going to be a lecture, Light-kun?" past-L groaned.

"Well, I wouldn't have to be lecturing you if you didn't have a little more self-restraint. You're an important man - the least you could do is set a good example to people by taking care of yourself a little better."

"Nobody sees me. It really doesn't matter how I keep myself."

Present-day Light furrowed his brow, and looked on. "Excuse me… but why are we watching this again?"

L rolled his dark eyes, and gave his miserable companion a playful nudge in the ribs, sending shivers down his spine. "It's worse than I thought… You're starting to remind me of Matsuda-san more and more. Only Matsuda-san is a little more honest."

"DON'T patronise me," Light grumbled.

"… Fine. If you're going to be persistently stupid," L smirked a little, "I suppose I'll have to help you out. Just look at yourself over there: telling me about healthy eating - which, I might add, was the last thing I needed to worry about. You were so… dedicated. Even if you weren't really worried about my health, the fact that you were arguing the point with me goes to show that, once upon a time, you _were_ passionate about things. Actually, the fact that you couldn't see the reason in me showing you this just goes to show that you really DON'T care any more. If you were able to look beyond yourself right at this moment in time, you would have been able to see this."

"Oh, just _SHUT U…_"

Light swung a fist at L as hard as he could… but instead of connecting, his arm sank straight through the ghost's stomach. Mist and ice wrapped around his fingers and, due to the amount of force he had put behind his violent attack, Light found himself sprawling through the insubstantial, freezing cold body of the dead detective. He tumbled towards the pavement…

… and landed on his face, on the floor in his room.

Alone.

"Finally," Light sniffed. "Now I can get back to my book."

-

_**Author's Note:** Bah. This is probably all kinds of terrible, and pretty abrupt to boot... but I've set myself an impossible deadline in which to write this up. Rest assured, though - Light Yagami's evening isn't going to be plain sailing... He's only dealt with the ghost of Christmas Past so far - Present and Future are waiting in the wings._

_Any guesses who they might be? :3_


	3. Chapter 3: Present

_I'm not proud of the last chapter. Despite the fact that FFYP-det-Lawliet seemed to be more than willing to do a huge amount of art for it, Chapter Two was – in my opinion – a little… lacking. I felt like I was going around in circles, and it kind of seemed like I'd missed the point._

_This chapter, however, is going to be good. Very, very, very good. I defy anyone to think that this isn't a good idea. I'm proud of myself on this one, because this is… what I've wanted to write for a long, long time._

_Sorry, Light… XD_

_**Disclaimer:**__ Death Note and A Christmas Carol were not made by the same person. Consequently, I can't have made them up._

-

**Past, Present, Future**

**Chapter Three: Present**

Light Yagami got to his feet and brushed himself down. He sent a humbug skimming across the floor with an absent-minded kick. Now all the stupidity was over… he was free to read his book.

He wobbled a little on his feet as he made his way over to his chair. When he finally made himself comfortable again, he reached out for his book, and opened it.

The book was nice.

Safe.

It wasn't about to offer him mints, or take him into a flashback, or dematerialise if he tried to hit it. It was nice, and normal, and safe, and tangible.

He gripped the book a little tighter, just to make absolutely sure.

… Yes. It was just a book. Just a regular old book. His bizarre little encounter with L's ghost… no, no, a figment of his _imagination_, which just so happened to _look_ like L's ghost… it was over. An isolated out of body experience, that was it…

He took a deep, deep breath, and began to read:

_Chapter Three._

_Awaking in the middle of a prodigiously tough snore – _

**BOOM**

Light leapt about a foot into the air as the door in his room literally flew off its hinges.

"Damn," said a voice from just outside. "That was easier than I expected. For someone squandering L's money, he doesn't put a lot of cash on a good-quality place of residence."

A blond-haired, skinny young man stepped inside the room, his large and ill-fitting black boots making a heavy thump every time he made a step. He seemed to be clad almost entirely in leather, and the rosary around his neck rattled ominously. In his hand, there was a gun, and in his eyes, there was an unnerving, measured kind of madness.

"Who the hell are you?!" Light said, trying desperately not to shriek in terror and failing.

The young man gave him a murderous glance. "I'm the guy who's going to blow your head off if you don't do exactly as I say. Now get out of that chair, put the book down, and come over here. We're going on a little trip."

"And if I refuse… you're just going to kill me, right?" Light asked incredulously.

"Perhaps. Or _perhaps_ I could just take you hostage and expose you as the mass murderer you really are. Either way is good for me – mainly because neither would be very good for you," the intruder sneered, and waved the gun in a menacing fashion. "Now get out of the chair."

Seeing no feasible way out of the situation at present, Light rose slowly from his seat, placed the book neatly on the floor, and walked over to the young man. He felt an unsettling amount of cold metal being pressed against his chest, and heard a click as the young man prepared the gun to be used – if necessary.

"Good. I haven't got much time to do this, so it's nice to see you cooperating with me. It'd get awfully messy if you decided you were going to be… difficult. Now," the gun swished quickly through the air and was pointed down the stairs, then returned to its place between Light's ribs, "I'm going to take you down those stairs, and outside the building. Then, we're going to get into a car, and my accomplice is going to drive us somewhere. It'll be fun – like a mystery tour."

There was no difficulty. Arguing with a maniac holding a gun is rarely advisable. Light and the young man swept seamlessly through the house, and out of the door. The gun was shoved even closer as they greeted the cold late evening air, in a vain attempt for two men with their hands shoved up against one another's bodies to look inconspicuous. It came as something of a relief when they reached the car, despite the fact that Light knew he was being kidnapped - moreover, kidnapped by a couple of teenagers with a terrible choice in car furnishing.

Inside the car was putrid. The seats were lined with zebra-striped material, and stank of cigarettes and… was that chocolate? As he was bundled into the back of the car, Light was greeted with an unenthusiastic salutation from the driver, who looked as though he had just come from a cosplay convention.

"Oh," he said. "That was quicker than I'd expected. Hello, by the way - I hope we didn't intrude on anything by M here bursting in with a gun and taking you away like that."

Light rolled his eyes. "No… I'm perfectly fine with random people breaking in and taking me hostage, don't worry abo…"

His sarcasm was cut short by a quick pistol whip to the stomach from the blond-haired young man, whom he could now assume to be M. "You're lucky I'm even letting you talk. Don't waste your words trying to be funny. Now sit down, shut up," he grinned a little, and was handed a slim package from the driver without even saying a word to him, "and enjoy the ride."

The door was slammed shut behind them, and the engine revved. Within seconds, the ride had begun.

"So," said M, digging his fingernail into the package with skilled precision and neatly ripping it open, "I suppose you're wondering who we are, what we're doing, and what we've got planned for you. You're probably also wondering how we know so much about you, but that's not particularly important to this situation, so I won't bother answering that."

Light said nothing, and merely tried to massage some feeling back into his stomach.

"So you _are _learning. You're not quite as stupid as you first appear," M mumbled, removing the last remnants of the wrapping from item he had been handed and revealing - to Light's relief - a chocolate bar. He tore off a corner, and cracked a piece of chocolate off between his teeth. "Well, I suppose I might as well explain. _We_ - that is, me and the driver here -" The driver raised one of his hands momentarily from the steering wheel in acknowledgment "- are messengers. Wise men from afar, I guess you could say. We've appointed ourselves a pretty daunting task, and also a pretty difficult one - in that we promised we weren't going to kill you right here. Instead, our little Christmas mission is going to be something of an education. Driver, if you could continue for the moment…"

As M began getting intimate with his chocolate bar, the driver explained. "You see, we already know that you're Kira, and we also know why you decided to _become _Kira. Correct me if I'm wrong, but your primary intentions was to rid the world of evil and criminal actions, right?"

Light opened his mouth to speak, and got another elbow in the stomach. " 's a rhetorical question, idiot," M slurred through a mouthful of food. "We _said_ we already know why you decided to become Kira, we don't _need_ you to explain it to us."

"Anyway…" the driver continued, "we… or rather, M decided it was our duty to show you that - despite the world apparently accepting Kira and becoming less criminally inclined - criminals are still at large. In fact, the state of the world is much worse than it was before Kira ever appeared."

"Clue number one should be obvious," said M as he swallowed the piece of chocolate in his mouth, and began work on the next piece. "The mere fact that you're in a car with two complete strangers, one of which is threatening you at gunpoint… That doesn't sound like Kira's perfect world, does it?"

Admittedly, that _was_ a pretty good point… "So," said Light, in as tiny a voice as possible - partly due to the pain in already in his gut, and partly because he didn't want M to hit him again, "… What exactly are you planning to do with me?"

"How would you like a taste of irony?" M grinned ominously.

The car took a sharp right turn, and swerved artistically into the parking lot of a shabby-looking bar. Light looked around, and wondered – only for a moment – why they had stopped.

However, this thought was quickly interrupted by the handle of a gun striking the back of his head. A split second later, a black bag was being pulled over his face, encasing him in darkness.

"That's the present all wrapped up – now, let's go," M's now muffled voice sneered.

Blindly, Light was pushed out of the car by the two kidnappers and guided at gunpoint to his destination. He could hear loud voices and the occasional tinny note of a badly-tuned radio, and with every step the unmistakable stench of raucous drunkenness grew ever stronger.

"This is a bar notoriously attended by some of the more _active _Kira supporters," The driver's voice whispered through the bag to him. "Over the past couple of weeks, M and myself have integrated ourselves into this group, and made them believe that we also support Kira – though this is far from the truth. Tonight, we promised that we would give the group a Christmas present: that is, we would hand over someone who didn't support Kira, so they could… make an example of him."

Light's throat went dry. "And I… assume… that this non-Kira support would be…"

The now familiar thud of an elbow in his stomach silenced him.

"Yeah, that'd be you," said M. "I told you it'd be ironic."

As the culmination of sounds and smells swelled to its highest point, a hand gripped Light around the back of his collar – M's hand, no doubt, considering the kind of attitude the young man had – and promptly shoved him face-first into a door.

The door swung open with a slam, and, knees shaking, Light was marched into the room. Inside, the clatters and roars were unbearably loud. He was starting to feel sick, and he was pretty sure that it wasn't exclusively due to being hit in the stomach.

"Hey everyone," M's voice called across the cacophony. "Found this one staging a little one-man protest against our lord Kira, right in front of Sakura TV. And on Christmas too – how heartless."

The jeers only grew louder, drowning out the blare of the radio. It sounded as though they were buying it… The fools! Light knew it would have been impossible to stage a one-man protest in this pro-Kira environment, and to do it directly outside Sakura TV – that would be suicide. Only an…

"Only an idiot'd do something like that!" bellowed a threatening voice from the crowd. "What you tryin' to do, blasphemer – do you REALLY want to die that badly?"

"He's lucky Kira didn't kill him before he got here," said another.

"Nah, our lord Kira wouldn't stoop to spit on a piece of dirt like this guy," said yet another. "Either way, we can do our bit for getting rid of criminals now… Help our lord out, show him our gratitude."

Light felt the grip from his collar loosen, and had to stop himself from turning around and grabbing M's arm. True, he might have kidnapped him and threatened to kill him, but ANYTHING was preferable to this. M had only _threatened_ to kill him…

"Sorry about this, boys," said M, his voice growing a little more distant, "but we have to run. Helping out with Kira's divine justice and all that."

The mob didn't reply. The last sound of hope Light heard was the door closing being M and the driver, and – as the occupants of the bar advanced – the faintest sound of a car driving into the distance.

He was alone again.

And as the first punch landed to his chest, the world faded out…

-

"- alive."

Light's eyes shot open. The world was still black – by the intensified aroma of his own breath, he could tell that the bag was still over his head. However, the feeling of imminent death had dissipated. He sighed in relief.

"But are you sure? He doesn't look conscious," said someone.

"I thought you were a little more observant than that, Commander Rester," said someone else, with a disinterested tone. "He is _definitely_ still alive. If he wasn't, there would probably be a lot more blood on the floor."

"Hmmm…" said the first voice. "Yes, you're right."

"Yes," the second voice said. "I am."

"H-hello…?" Light gasped as loud as he possibly could.

"I told you," the second voice said, without even a hint of smugness. "Now, Commander Rester, please remove the bag from his head. I would like to see the face of Kira."

-

_**Author's Note:** Oh yes. The Wammy's House trinity have arrived._

_Okay, okay. So this chapter just stands testament to my tendency to make everything slip slowly into non-canon crack… and the next chapter proves to be even weirder._

_But I'm happy with it. Even though it is terribly sadistic._

_Gah. Anyway, Merry Christmas!_


	4. Chapter 4: Future

_L, Mello… and…_

_Take a wild guess._

_Yes, alright, you've guessed it already. Near's here. It just wouldn't be the same if the Ghost of Christmas Future was anyone BUT him._

_So, I'll stop my blathering and get on with it._

_You'd better watch out…_

_**Disclaimer:**__ Look at the name of the site. It clearly says FANfiction. I think that goes to show that this stuff isn't originally mine._

-

**Past, Present, Future**

**Chapter Four: Future**

The veil was lifted.

And before Light sat a small, pale, white-haired boy. Well… "boy" was the first assumption he made. In fact, it was very difficult to determine the person's true age: he was youthful in his overall appearance, and yet… his blank eyes, his deathly pallor, his mannerisms – all of these indicated someone much, much older.

"Mm," the person said, with the cracked, bored tones of someone who has only recently woken up, "I see. I was expecting him to look a little more _impressive_ than this… but then again, appearances usually are deceptive. A fact I'm sure he's been relying on for quite some time." He nodded his head slowly, and twirled a piece of pure-white hair between his fingers.

As the strange person did so, something cold and metallic slipped around both of Light's wrists. There was a click, and the jangle of a chain.

Handcuffs. No smart remark, no emotional blackmail… whoever these people were, they meant business.

"We wouldn't want Kira to get any ideas, Commander Rester," the white-haired person croaked, staring at his own feet. "Do you think the handcuffs are enough?"

Light shivered. The handcuffs were cold, the room was cold, his reception was cold… and by the sounds of it, there was very little point in hoping that this feeling would be alleviated any time soon.

A ghostly vision, a kidnapping, a beating… and now this.

Even he had his limits.

"Wh-what's happening…?" he whimpered. "Who… Whe-where…?"

"Near – what do you propose we do with him?" said a voice from behind him, disregarding his presence almost completely. "Considering the current social climate, do you think we'll be able to turn him in to the police this easily? And if we expose him… Kira already has quite a lot of supporters – it might be difficult for us to…"

The white-haired person glared at a point above Light's head. It was not a pleasant glare. "Kira has three kinds of supporters: those that believe his actions are an act of divine judgement, those that are too afraid of stepping out of line to disagree with him, and people that want to have an excuse to carry out criminal acts 'in his name'. If we exposed him, the first type would realise that it _wasn't_ an act of divine justice and therefore resent Kira; the second type would have no reason to fear any repercussions; and the third type wouldn't care at all. I hope that… clears up your query."

A tall, heavy-set man stepped into Light's point of view from behind him. This, he assumed, was the elusive 'Commander Rester': he looked like he was built – not born, actually _built_ – for military services. However, underneath his matter-of-fact expression, Light could sense the embarrassment… and, oddly, a little fear within him. To imagine that such a heroic, brave-looking man was scared by the tiny white waif that sat in front of him would have been quite amusing… if it weren't so foreboding. The situation Light was in…

He could only sit, and watch, and wait in terror. For a man like Commander Rester to have such respect and fear for this person… It didn't even bear thinking about.

"… Still," said Rester, shuddering a little, "we need to be careful about how we deal with this. I imagine you have a plan, though."

"In a manner of speaking."

"Who…?" said Light, in vain. "Wh-what…?"

"What we do," said the pale man, "is wait. We sit, and watch, and wait."

There was a painful silence.

"… because… judging from the actions that Kira has taken," he continued, "… I would expect that the one thing he hates more than anything…" another agonising pause, "... isn't competition. It isn't the threat of being caught, or being defeated. The thing that motivates him to take his plans to such a grand scale… is…"

He trailed off.

…

And seconds stretched into years.

…

Light stayed still, trying not to feel the time trickling past… but as hard as he tried, the more he felt it. Precious minutes flew by, and still… with his hands bound behind him… He could do nothing to stop it.

He could do nothing.

…

Alone.

And even he had his limits.

Fear turned to sadness. Sadness turned to hatred. Hatred turned to rage. Light's nerves began to burn. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Logic melted away, and in its place the vicious, ruthless lust for action bubbled upwards.

It exploded.

"Just _tell me what's going on!!_ Just tell me!! _TELL ME!! _TELL – ME!!! I deserve to know what's going on, I do _not_ deserve this kind of treatment! I am _Kira_ – I shouldn't be packed up in some car, or beaten, or chained up like this!! How dare you treat me this way! You _can't_ do this to me!! You CANN…"

"… his impatience… and his desire to control a situation," the pale young man concluded. "Thank you for proving my point, Yagami. Now, Commander Rester, if you please – tell Gevanni to stop recording. We have what we need."

Light choked. "_What_?"

"Recording," the person said, as a strange, horrible little smile spread across his lips. "We needed definite evidence to present before we announced your sentence."

"Announced my… announced… My _what?_"

"Do I really have to repeat _everything_ I say, Yagami?" he said, his smile broadening further. The line sounded familiar… "Your sentence. That is, the sentence you will be serving for murdering all those criminals, not to mention all the innocent individuals you've ruined the lives of, or killed because they were getting in the way of your plans."

"But… but…" Light stammered, "… I… You can't just say that because I said I was Kira… that I really _was_… I mean… You can't base your case on me _saying_ that I'm Kira. Because… I mean… _So_ many other people have said they were Kira, I didn't say that I _killed_ anyone, or give you any other evidence… I… I just…"

"Hmm… I suppose you _are_ right about that. We can't just base all this on word of mouth," the pale young man said, "… In order to convince a court of law, we would either have to have a confession from you saying that you _had_ killed all of these people… or physical evidence. Like the Death Note we seized from your room this afternoon, when Miss Amane went out."

The world froze.

And shattered.

"But… you… You took… But that's breaking and entering! You can't do that, you're trying to enforce the law, aren't you?!" Light shrieked.

"Technically, we are. But technically, so are you. And you murder people. That's much worse than breaking and entering."

"Nn… But… You stole… Even…"

"We stole a book. We didn't steal lives."

"… But… but it's MINE," Light screamed. "MINE!! YOU CAN'T TAKE THE DEATH NOTE AWAY FROM ME!! I'M USING IT TO HELP THE WORLD!! You're… You're… _YOU'RE THE CRIMINAL HERE!!_ You're letting all those idiots live, you want to pollute the world with evil, and I'm… I AM JUSTICE!!"

"… Again, thank you for helping us, Yagami," the pale young man smiled. "Now we can _really_ stop recording."

Light's jaw dropped.

"Oh, you didn't think that we'd finish before we actually got you to admit to everything, did you? Now we have you on record, telling the world that you owned a Death Note. Of course, we haven't _really_ entered your house and taken your Death Note – I said that to see how you would react. And now that we have sufficient evidence to get a search warrant…"

Light stared on. "… No," he gulped. "No, no, you can't. No… this isn't… you haven't… no…"

"There really is no point in worrying about it now," the white-haired man said, without feeling. "It's over. You've lost."

"But I can't lose…"

"Everybody loses. It's just a matter of when."

"But…"

"No buts. No arguments." The heavy hand of Commander Rester landed on his shoulder. "You've lost."

He could feel a familiar grip tighten around the back of his collar. "You've lost," said M.

And, through the corner of his eye, something pearlescent and ghostlike shimmered. An icy hand oozed onto his other shoulder. "You've lost," said L.

He had lost.

Kira had lost.

-

_**Author's Note:**__ Yeah, okay, a little depressing there… I mean, what a downer to the story. And it's CHRISTMAS. I mean, I really should have put more effort into making this happy, shouldn't I?_

_Oh, wait, what's that? One more chapter?_

_Okay then. XP_


	5. Chapter 5: Finale

_**Disclaimer:**__ Death Note is not mine. If it was, the ending would be THIS sappy. As for A Christmas Carol… do I LOOK over 100 years old? No._

-

**Past, Present, Future**

**Chapter Five: Finale**

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the darkness of the night, marking the beginning of a new morning.

Christmas morning.

It was with these rays, and with the rare sound of a bird twittering outside the window, that Light Yagami awoke.

Awaking in the middle of a prodigiously tough snore, he jolted upright, and sent the book that had been resting on his chest flying onto the floor.

Ghosts… guns… handcuffs…

They were gone. All gone. Whether it was a dream or not, they were gone. Light sighed in relief…

… but faltered.

It was true. They _were_ all gone. He was back in his room, sitting in his chair. There, in the bed, Misa was curled up after her late-night Christmas shopping. No mints littered the floor, the door was still attached in its frame… Nothing stood as testament to what happened in the night.

Except his thoughts.

He shivered to himself as moments flashed through his mind. He could still see the hazy outline of L's ghost, still smell the cigarettes and chocolate aroma from the car, still feel the life draining from him as the words "You've lost" forced their way into his consciousness.

Last night, he felt he was the victim in all of this. In the morning light, however, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that, to some degree, he was the villain, too. He had lost his passion – not only for minor things, but also for the things he desired most. The doctrine he was trying to teach the world had become skewed, and now he wasn't even sure that the results were matching up with his intentions… He had lost so many things along the way –

– And for what? True, his 'perfect' world glimmered from the outside… but its innards were rotten. There was no use trying to hide this fact any longer. Shiny enamel, but a rotten root; an impressive looking parcel with a pair of argyle socks inside: _this_ was his 'perfect' world, and he was the god of all of it.

A god of a hollow world.

Silently, so as not to wake Misa, he rose from the chair and made his way to the window. Outside, the sky was still dark – though the rays of sunlight had begun their trek across the landscape, it was still far too early for even the world to have woken up. From here, Light could see a thousand darkened windows… and behind each one of them, someone would be sleeping. In just a few hours, they would be waking up, and doing the things that people do in the morning.

Simple things. Nothing big. Nothing that would change the world.

Just simple things.

Whilst simplicity was not a quality that Light was particularly fond of, the thought of this made him pause.

Light Yagami was a quick thinker, and a clever young man. Though his proactive attitude sometimes took him down the wrong path, it could never be said that his primary intentions were anything less than admirable. He stuck by his decisions, and that was what made him who he was.

He sighed, watching his breath imprint itself on the window and melt away.

He _had_ been a victim. He _hadn't_ deserved this.

He deserved better.

…

"Misa," he said.

The woman on the bed stretched and yawned, as a reflex reaction to him calling her name. "Mmwhat is it, Light?"

He smiled a little to himself. "There were some complications yesterday. The Task Force has started to suspect us again."

Despite her sleepiness, the words registered in her mind. She clapped a hand to her mouth. "What do we do, Light?"

Behind her, Ryuk drifted half-way through the wall. "Did I hear right? That those guys are back on your case? Hyuk hyuk… They must be cleverer than you thought."

Light pondered for a moment. "To a certain degree… yes. I suppose they are," he closed his eyes, and the smile grew stronger, "which is why – after a lot of deliberation – I have decided to take such drastic action to shake them off."

"So," Misa looked puzzled, "… what are we going to do, then?"

He clasped his hands together. "Simple…"

When the Task Force arrived at headquarters, prompt and early on Christmas morning, they found a message left on one of the computers. It read:

_Merry Christmas everyone._

_I've had a bit of a change of heart…_

_Hope you all have a good time with your families today._

_L. Yagami._

"Are you sure this'll work?" asked Ryuk, as he was handed the small black notebook. "I mean, getting rid of every Death Note… that's a bit extreme, isn't it? How are you supposed to regain your memory and keep on… Kira-…ing?"

"First of all, Ryuk, Kira-ing is not a word. _Don't_ insult me by saying things like that," said Light. "Secondly – I told you: I need to do something that confuses _everyone_ – and I need to get the Task Force off mine and Misa's backs. That's why I gave them the day off, as a way of cooling them down a little… and _also_ why I need you to take the Death Notes back to the Shinigami Realm. You _do_ want to have fun, don't you?"

"Well, yeah," said Ryuk.

"And Misa trusts me, don't you, Misa?"

"Of course! Misa _always_ trusts Light!" Misa squeaked.

"So take them. I don't care how long it takes – as long as you find every Death Note and take them back," said Light. "And don't worry… I _promise_ to you, Ryuk – I'm in control. My plan is still going ahead. And this certainly isn't the last you've seen of me."

Ryuk shrugged. "Fine… Okay. I'll take 'em."

Without another word, he left.

The world froze.

And sparkled.

-

_**Author's Note:**__ So there you go. A nice warm slice of Optimism pie. I bet you've never had such a meaningful pie (sorry – in-joke)…_

_I won't spoil the huggly warmness I was trying to get into this chapter by going on too long with this. I'd just like to say…_

_Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to everyone._

_Even bad guys._

_**The Author Wishes to Thank:**__ Everyone who has ever read, reviewed, or even taken a passing glance at my fics. To those who put up with my sporadicness with _A.I: Alternate Incarceration_; to those who put up with my randomness in _Loose Threads_; and especially to those that put up with me – period… I wish you all a happy 2009… even though I'll still be posting things and annoying the hell out of you. XD_


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